The Conqueror Worms

There was silence for a few seconds while they all got a good look.

“Doesn’t look like it was cut off.” Juan stroked his goatee. “It looks squeezed or something.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I noticed that, too.”

“What would do that?” Nate asked. “What kind of weapon could squeeze his head off? And what’s that weird bruise on his cheek?”

“A jellyfish sting, maybe?” Mike offered.

“Maybe it wasn’t the Satanists,” Taz said, cracking his knuckles. “Could have been a shark or some shit. Bit his head off and swallowed the rest.”

He started humming the Jaws theme, and Ducky and Lashawn broke into wild laughter. For a second, I seriously considered killing all three of them. Juan and Sarah both shot them a dirty look and they shut up.

“Weren’t no shark.”

Salty hovered in the rear, his back to the elevator doors. He lit a cigarette.

“Weren’t no shark,” he repeated. “ ’Twas a Kraken.”

Ducky giggled. “A crackhead?”

“A Kraken,” Salty corrected him, and then grew quiet again.

Mindy looked at Lori and Sarah and rolled her eyes. A few of the others were grinning. But for a moment, Salty reminded me of Quint, from Jaws. I halfexpected him to start showing us his scars.

Juan stared at him. “What the fuck is a Kraken?”

“A mythological beast,” Lee spoke up. “It’s like a giant squid or octopus, except bigger. Much bigger. They show up pretty frequently in the old sea stories. I once had my ninth-graders do a paper on them and other Old World myths.”

“Ain’t no myth, either.” Salty inhaled cigarette smoke, coughed, and then focused on us with his bloodshot eyes. “You’re a smart man, teacher. I’m sure you know all about grammar and famous people and splitting the atom, but you don’t know shit about the sea. There’s been whales that have sucker scars on them the size of truck tires.”

Lee shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well yes, marine researchers have reported that from time to time, but a Kraken? Those were just a legend, based on mariner sightings of the giant squid. There’s nothing in the ocean big enough to pull an entire ship down!”

“Tell that to the crew of the Alecton,” the old man snorted. “Eighteen sixty-one it was, when the Alecton sailed from France to the island of Madeira. Crew saw something round and flat and full of arms. Looked like a tree pulled up by the roots. They decided to catch it. Harpooned the thing and slipped a rope around its tail. Tried hauling it back to port, but it began to rot and they had to let it go. Nobody believed them. Said they were crazy.”

He lit a cigarette, hacked up a wad of phlegm, swallowed it back down, and continued.

“Another washed up on the beach in Dingle-Cosh, Ireland, back in sixteen seventy-three. Had a long body, two huge eyes, and ten tentacles. They say it measured over forty feet long. Carnival owner by the name of James Steward came to see the monster. He cut off two eight-foot sections of tentacle and put ’em on display in his carnival. The rest of the carcass washed out to sea. Nobody believed him, either—said he made it up.”

Everybody sat still, transfixed by the story. Even Taz and Ducky, who could usually be counted on to make a mockery of anything, were quiet.

“During the winter, I used to sit in the library on cold days. I’d read a lot. Wasn’t much else to do. Nobody ever believed them folks, but today, the giant squid is recognized as an animal. Scientists say they live way deep down in the ocean. Biggest one accepted by science was found on November second, eighteen seventy-eight. A fisherman named Sperring and two of his buddies were fishing off the coast of Newfoundland. Spotted something big in the water, bigger than a whale. Thinking it was part of a wrecked ship, they rowed toward it. But when they got closer, they found out the damned thing was alive.”

I drained my can of warm soda, listening.

“It got stranded in the shallows,” Salty continued, “and it was beating at the water with its tail and arms, trying to get back out. Must have been an awful sight. Sperring was spooked by its eyes. He said the eyes looked human, but they were more than a foot and a half across.

“They watched it for a while and saw that it was wounded and weak. Then, just like the crew of the Alecton, they slipped a rope around its tail, and when the tide went out, that thing was high and dry. They cut it up for dog food, but not before a scientist come along and took some measurements. It was at least fifty-seven feet long, from the tip of its tail to the tentacles.”

“That’s a lot of fucking dog food,” Taz snickered.

Salty glowered at him.

Lee cleared his throat. “Those are indeed some fascinating stories, Salty. But that’s all ancient history.”

“Wrong. There were reports of one coming up out of the Chagos Trench in nineteen eighty-five. People stationed at the Navy base in Diego Garcia saw it. Over twenty-five witnesses, and the government had pictures, too. And another one washed up on the beach in St. Augustine in nineteen twenty-seven, and there’re samples of its flesh preserved at the Smithsonian and Yale. I’m sure you’d believe them, teacher.”

Lee shrugged. “I’m familiar with those, but they were simply giant squid. That’s all. As I said, the Kraken myth was based on ancient sightings of those creatures.”

“No, it wasn’t. And they weren’t just giant squid. Those things were the Kraken’s babies.”

“If you guys don’t mind,” I interrupted, “I’d like to go bury my friend now. You can all stay here and play Jacques Cousteau if you want.”

I stalked out of the lobby with Jimmy’s head cradled under my arm. Behind me, Lee and Salty continued to debate nautical myths. I heard some of the others get up, starting to drift away as well.

Lori ran after me. “Kevin?”

“Yeah?” I stopped and turned.

“Are you all right?” She touched my shoulder, and her fingers felt warm. The moment was brief, fleeting, but I relished the sensation. There’s so little warmth these days.

“Sure, I’ll be okay.” I tried a weak smile, and almost managed it.

“I’m here if you need me.”

“I know. I appreciate that. Thanks.”

I left her standing there. Any other time, I would have welcomed her presence. But not then. Not at that moment. I pushed the stairwell door open and walked up one flight to the twentieth floor, listening to my footsteps echo in the shadows. Even in there, the air was damp. Water stains were starting to appear on the ceiling, and black mold grew in patches along the walls. We were going to be in trouble if that continued. But I was too exhausted to worry anymore about it just then.

I exited the stairwell and went to the room at the end of the hall. My room.

My garden.

Originally, it had been a king-sized business suite; the conference room type, with a television built into the wall and lots of space for meetings and parties. The TV didn’t work anymore, and neither did the minifridge behind the bar. But that was okay since I didn’t plan on throwing a party anytime soon.

The room’s best feature was the large skylight in the center of the ceiling. It measured ten feet across, facing out into the gray sky. At night, I’d lie in bed and listen to the rain beat against it. The sound of the rain was always there, day and night, no matter where you went. Eventually, you got used to it and it became nothing but background noise. At night, though, it got pervasive again.

I wasn’t a gardener, but I’d started a garden anyway, directly beneath the skylight. It didn’t matter that there was no sunshine peeking through the clouds. I still wanted to try it. Maybe it was hopeless or perhaps I just wanted to break the monotony. Maybe I thought some ultraviolet rays would creep through and photosynthesis would magically happen. I was also just fucking tired of eating fish, seabirds, and kelp, along with the occasional scavenged bag of potato chips or a can of corn from an abandoned building.